


Dial A Demon

by DefenstrationProtestation (Sand_Cursive)



Series: That (In)Human Connection [1]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: AFAB Main Character, Blow Jobs, Default name MC, Exhibitionism, F/M, M/M, Multi, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, Yuki the name is Yuki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23695528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sand_Cursive/pseuds/DefenstrationProtestation
Summary: Yuki and Solomon summon Asmo. For fun.PWP. Seriously it's like 75% just sex.
Relationships: Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Asmodeus/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus/Main Character/Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus/Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character/Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Series: That (In)Human Connection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731373
Comments: 17
Kudos: 220





	Dial A Demon

**Author's Note:**

> Hecatomb is just a nickname. Yuki's been upgraded from sacrificial lamb to full-scale event. I'll explain it maybe in another work?

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end is honeyed and slow, that nascent promise of a freshly-woken lust demon, eyes heavy-lidded and dark. You can almost see the artful tousle of his bed-head - always impossibly beautiful no matter the arrangement.

“Ah, Asmo! I’m — hmm — sorry, did we wake you?”

“We?”

White hair tickles your cheek, warm skin pressing down against your shoulder. Solomon’s breath ghosts against your jaw, angled towards the phone you’re holding out on your palm. “Hello, Asmo.”

“Oooh, _together_ are we?” The shadow of a purr lingers under his words, suggestive.

“Are you busy tonight? We, ah, were hoping you could—”

“Do it!” The demon interrupts with clear excitement. “Do it! Do it! Do it!”

“Asmo I haven’t even—”

There’s a sudden white cloud of smoke and a _pop!_ like a vacuum of air. Your hips still. The demon of lust is suddenly standing before you, casual delight morphing into immediate desire. He lets out a slow, uneven breath. “Oh, you started without me? Although I can’t say I mind the welcome view.”

His eyes are dark, raking over the sweet composition of the two of you. You can feel your bare skin flushing under his gaze. Your back is pressed flush against Solomon’s chest as you straddle him, your legs locked on the outside of his knees, every aspect of your body open to your guest. You let out a soft sigh, finishing the slow roll of your hips. Solomon hums pleasantly beneath you.

Right. Solomon.

You switch off your D.D.D. and toss it softly to the side, then turn to him in irritation, your hands already reaching for his hair. “Solomon—”

He takes advantage of your shifting balance, throwing his arms around your waist and pulling you back and down onto him, thrusting eagerly up into you. You don’t bother trying to tamp the moan that shoots out of you, involuntary reflex. You clench, tight, and his motion stutters, his fingers shooting to your hips and digging hard into your skin. He groans against your shoulder and you work to keep yourself from jerking against him. “You can’t,” you huff, “summon him before I—”

“Ooooh, darlings,” Asmo breathes, walking closer. His jacket, his shirt are both already discarded, shoes kicked off who knows where. There’s the slide of his belt as he unbuckles, pulls the fabric of his trousers down his legs. The milky expanse of his skin glows invitingly, almost unbroken but for the lines of small, tight pink briefs. Your breath catches.

You want to tear them off with your teeth.

“I hope you don’t mind if I play a little bit of catch up.” You can feel his palms hot against your legs, curling around the ball of your knees, trailing up your thighs. He presses down, pinning you in place, spreading you further, wider. His breath ghosts against tender skin, the juncture where you and the sorcerer are connected. Anticipation has you tensing, Solomon all but whimpering underneath you, hips bucking desperate and futile. Asmo is so much stronger than he looks.

His tongue darts out, presses flat against the base of Solomon’s cock, licking upwards in a slow stripe. He lingers at your clit, flicks with the sharp tip of his tongue and pulls back just to press a kiss against it. Your breath stutters, and you tighten impossibly further. You can feel the beginnings of a whine at your back.

_Oh, you’ve **missed** him._

You struggle against the restraint of Solomon’s arms. As deliciously exposed as this position is, reclined as you are you have very little agency and you want to _touch_.

“Solomon,” you breathe, and you feel him twitch inside you. “Let go, I want to _play_.”

“Sorry, hecatomb, you know Asmo wants to get re-acquainted. Why don’t you let him spoil you?”

“I’ve missed you Solomon,” Asmo laughs. His mouth is making its meandering way upwards — kisses against your pelvis, your stomach, your diaphragm. His tongue presses against flesh, a warm, wet pressure as he licks the underside of your breast, dragging higher, higher, circling prominent nerves but never touching.

The second his mouth latches, sucking, to your nipple he releases his hands from your thighs. His fingers come up to massage, to pinch, while Solomon uses this new freedom to roll his hips, thrusting lazily. You try to instantaneously push up into his touch, to press down against his warmth. To split yourself to the two of them, heady with desperation. “I want—” You want to be so much _closer_.

“I know.” There’s something smug in his voice. Solomon curls up and Asmo follows, his free hand hooking around the back of your neck to help draw you forwards. He pulls his mouth off you with a sound like lost suction and your body instinctively follows, your hips grinding back as you arch towards him. He presses you back, both hands cupping your breasts, rolling the pebble of your nipples with easy skill. Fingers dig tighter against your hips as the sorcerer rocks you on his lap, his breath stuttering.

Every point of contact is a warmth, the tickle of a brush, splitting your focus to a handful of points that light up along your body like a constellation. You press down, deeper, chasing the fullness of him inside you when Asmo bends down and puts his mouth on your neck and _sucks_. A keening noise rises, a vibrato under your skin that you know he can feel against his lips.

“Beautiful, darling,” he murmurs against your pulse. There’s a rustling; he’s shifting around you, hands leaving your chest as he moves. The sudden loss of heat makes the room seem disproportionately cold, goosebumps rising, and you shiver. 

Solomon adjusts beneath you, bites at the junction of your shoulder and neck and you gasp and wriggle against him. Without Asmo you’re no longer sandwiched between them, and the muscles of his thighs tense. You reach one hand back. Your bicep caresses the curve of his cheek as your fingers tangle themselves in strands of white hair and you pull yourself closer. You’re grinding down, already so full and desperate for friction and he’s making the most _beautiful_ groan…

“ _Fuck me_ ,” you say, and even if it’s exclamation he takes it as command.

His tongue laves briefly over the bite mark and then he’s bouncing you, the length of him sliding slickly out before slamming back in, his legs hitting the back of your thighs with a resounding _slap!_. You cry out and throw your head back against his shoulder, enjoying the drag of nearly his full length before he brings you back down. He’s _deep_ inside you, warming you from the inside out, and you can’t stop your gasps, the eager edge of your voice.

Asmo, at your side, turns your head towards him and captures your mouth in a sloppy kiss. Your breathing is ragged, hair sticking to sweat-slicked skin and he’s looking at you like he’s never seen anything so beautiful.

“Well, I think I’ve been patient for long enough.”

The demon hooks his hands beneath your arms, and with supernatural timing drags you out of the sorcerer’s lap, his hands releasing their death-grip on your hips. The head of his cock finally pops out for the first time since the demon’s arrived. You whimper at the loss. Asmo pets you gently as he eyes it, red and glistening, and lets his tongue out to quickly wet his lips. “You know, I was going to have the two of you readjust so I could participate, but now I think I’d rather have a taste.”

He bobs down, his impressive tongue sweeping across the glans. The mingling scent of your arousal is heavy in the air and you reach between your legs as you watch the movement of him, his hair moving in shining waves.

His briefs are still on.

You can see his erection straining against the tight fabric, a dark, wet spot spreading. Frankly you’re impressed he’s managed to hold out for so long. You slip off the bed on slightly unsteady legs, coming to stand behind him, and run hands with still slick fingers down the contours of his smooth sides. He shudders under your touch and you mirror him in the stutter of your breath, running a gentle touch along the fabric boundary of his underwear.

You catch Solomon’s gaze over the demon’s head, his eyes half-lidded and dazed. You quirk an eyebrow at him and he smirks. You’ve done this often enough to read each other nearly telepathically, the separation of your bodies reduced to electric touch and nearly blinding pleasure.

You lay down on cool wood and thread your arms between Asmo’s parted legs, between the arms posted on Solomon’s knees, loosely framing Asmo’s head as he continues in a steady rhythm. Your sorcerer grabs your hands and pulls, and then you’re directly below them. You cup your hands behind the demon’s neck, trail a light touch over his shoulders, towards his collarbone, down the smooth line of his chest. To his credit, he doesn’t break his stride. Not until you sit up, scratch your teeth against his hipbone until you hit elastic, and bite down. Your hands go over around his hips, cup the perfect curve of his ass, and then with teeth and fingers you bull his briefs _down_.

His stance keeps the garment from going too far, but his erection still springs free once released, hitting you lightly in the face. You breathe in deeply, the scent of him nearly enough to make your vision blank. You can see him tense as you ghost air against him, pre-cum still dripping from the tip.

He pulls back with a gasp, Solomon biting his bottom lip as Asmo shifts backwards, shimmying eagerly out of his last scrap of fabric. Solomon reaches down and pulls you up, the warm wet of his cock pressing briefly against your back before he rolls you over on the bed. Your head hangs over the edge and Asmo nearly falls into you, his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of your chest.

Your tongue flicks out to catch the thick drop of pre-cum, lapping gently. He moans and makes to press himself into your mouth when Solomon grabs you by the hips and pulls you forwards, his cock lying warm against your pelvis. The two of you watch the sorcerer, still looking down at you with something like amusement in the smirk on his mouth.

“Don’t tease me!” You’re trying for demanding but it comes out helpless, your voice breathy and low.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says; an obvious lie. But the words have barely left his lips before he’s lined himself up, pressing deliciously into you. You arch up at the initial press of him, moving into you so slowly you can feel every last centimeter as he goes further, further, inside. You groan at the feel of him seamed at your crotch, and the second your mouth is open Asmo is pressing in a thin finger.

You suck eagerly. He tastes like sweat and sex and something distinctly sweet and you can only imagine how much better it will taste when you have his cock in your mouth and then he’s withdrawing and you’re almost ready to _beg_ …

The second you feel him against your lips you’re nearly swallowing him, suction wet and desperate. Asmo leans forwards, and you gag slightly, saliva running down the line of your jaw. You can hear something wet overhead; Asmo and Solomon kissing messily while they’re both buried within you. The thought of the picture you must make makes your arousal spiral higher.

They break noisily apart and without a beat of pause Solomon pulls out abruptly and slams himself back in. The pace he’s setting is unsteady and a little rough, already driven to the mindless chase of his release from nearly an hour of slow edging.

“You can’t wait?” Asmo teases, the superiority of his statement cut by his gasps.

Solomon smiles easily, flushed. “You aren’t the one who’s been having his cock warmed since this afternoon.”

You moan, the sound coming somewhere from deep in your chest. Each rough thrust has Asmo pushing himself deeper into your throat and your eyes are tearing up but. He pulls out slightly and you take a breath and then you reach your arms out and put your hands on his ass and press him in deeper.

“Darling!” he gasps. “Aren’t we all so eager today?”

And then he’s reaching a hand down, cupping the swell of your breasts, following your soft lines down to the crossroads where your body meets your sorcerer’s, and his fingers find your clit. Electricity sings through you as he rubs at the sensitive nerves, and then you’re mewling around his cock, sucking, choking, _desperate_. Solomon is growing wilder, rougher, his thrusts almost frantic as he jerks into you. He’s _close_ , you can feel it, the deep panting of his breaths, the trembling in his arms. “I, I’m going…”

Asmo can see it too. He threads his hand into Solomon’s hair and brings him so close you’re nearly bent between the two of them, kissing him so deeply they’re sharing air. It’s impossibly hot, your body on fire as they press against you, damp skin against skin, the vulgar noises of it filling the room. There’s a shudder, a jerk and you feel yourself filling warm and then he’s just rutting sloppily into you, fucking out the last vestiges of his long, blissful orgasm.

Asmo pulls back, stepping around you so that you’re forced to release him with a wet _pop!_. You whine, your voice rough and a little raw. He pats your cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet.”

And then he slips an arm under your shoulders and props you into a sitting position, sliding easily behind you to help keep you upright. From this vantage point you can finally see Solomon’s face; a mess of white hair pasted to damp skin, flushed with pleasure and exertion. His lips plump and kiss-bruised and shiny, his eyes slightly glazed. For this one incredible moment, he is the most perfect thing you’ve ever seen. You sit up, his cock still couched within you, and reach for him.

Your arms circle his neck and he leans easily into you, mouth meeting yours in soft kisses. Your heated breaths are making the air humid, your arms sluggish; you press against him, chest to chest, falling into each other. His hands are roaming lazy over your skin, tracing circular patterns that make you melt further.

Asmo nips the hickey at your neck and you jerk against his chest. The closer you get the more access he has, and he sucks at the delicate skin of your collarbone, leaning over your shoulder so his hair tickles the skin at your breast. You take a breath, wriggling against him, and Solomon winces delicately.

Asmo pulls you off the sorcerer and you instantly miss the fullness of having him inside you. The mess of his cum pools under you, staining the fabric of your sheets. Solomon lies back, and you secure Asmo’s arms around you and flop down on his other side. He shifts closer, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Well, that wasn’t bad at all for an appetizer!” Asmo chirps, brushing his bangs out of his face. One hand wanders over your skin, tracing patterns on your torso, going lower, lower. Your hand snaps out, grabbing his wrist and placing him directly against your still-slick pussy. You aren’t anywhere close to being sated, yet.

“How direct, darling!” he says, sounding pleased. His thumb rubs gentle circles against your clit and you press yourself against his arm, arching into him. Solomon reaches over, twining his fingers in Asmo’s hair. “We were actually hoping to get your advice.”

“Oh? So you weren’t just chasing the pleasure of my company?”

“We — ah — We’re going — _please, Asmo!_ ” Your words stutter out as he slides a finger inside. You press your face against his shoulder, breathing wetly.

“We’re going out tonight, and we wanted your input on our choices.”

“Fashion or otherwise?” Asmo murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair.

Solomon trails a hand down Asmo’s stomach, fingers scratching lightly at the burnished tangle of curls. There’s a twitch; movement, as Asmo’s arousal ramps back up. Solomon circles the base with a soft grip, tightening slowly, slowly as Asmo’s erection stands. “Why not both?”

“Well why don’t you tell Asmo alllll about it while we continue.”

Solomon smiles, arcing over your shoulder so he can kiss the demon. Slow, tongues darting out, sensual and deep. You whine as Asmo presses another finger inside you, stretching you wider.

Solomon reaches down and pulls the demon’s hand away from you and you whimper at the sudden lack. He laughs at your protest, moving down to kiss you sweetly while he positions Asmo directly at your entrance. The two of you wait, breath caught, as he rubs him gently against you.

“You two will have to continue without me. I’m going to get cleaned up.”

“Aww,” Asmo pouts. “Whyyyy? Use that one fancy little spell you have. That one that cuts your refractory period. I know there’s no way you’ll be satisfied just the once.”

He rolls his eyes and releases Asmo’s cock. The demon shifts instinctively, burying the head within your messy heat and you moan.

“If I do that, we’re going to be here all night.”

“Isn’t that the ideal, darling?”

Solomon laughs and steps off the bed. “I’ll let our little hecatomb fill you in.”

“While I fill her up?” he asks, and you do your best to both push him in and smack his face. He holds you directly around his head, still too. Damn. Strong.

Solomon smiles and turns away, heading for the shower.

“Just the two of us now, darling,” Asmo says, kissing the shell of your ear. His cock is still barely pressed into you, the heat of him dim. You wiggle desperately, pressing the full curve of your ass back into his pelvis. He laughs and nips at your earlobe. “Well, someone’s impatient.”

“Are you trying to get me to beg?” you ask, exasperated.

“Will you, if I promise to make you feel so good you forget your name?”

His breath tickles the hairs at your neck and you whine again. You wiggle further against him and his hands shift to your thighs, keeping you exactly where you are. Well. Fuck.

“ _Please_ Asmo, I’m _begging_ now.”

“Oh? Well, if you ask me so nicely.”

He sheaths himself fully inside you and you gasp. “Now, before you lose your ability to make coherent sentences, why don’t you explain what I’m doing here?”

You reach back and grab a handful of his ass, pulling him as close as you possibly can. “I was under the impression you were well-versed in these kinds of activities.”

“Don’t be a tease if you don’t want me to reciprocate,” he warns with a laugh.

“Solomon and I were going to go out tonight. We were hoping you could help us with our outfits?”

He trails a lazy kiss along the flat of your shoulder blade. “Is that all?”

“Well if we don’t finish this, it won’t even be that.”

“You know we could stop and get ready right now.”

You hiss and press against him, skin direct to skin, hips rolling in a short circle. “Don’t you dare. We aren’t leaving until you give me what I was promised.”

“Did I promise?”

Even without turning you can make a guess at the expression on his face: all self-satisfied mischief. “Asmo, _please_.”

He’s silent, and you make to turn around when he suddenly hikes one of your legs up under his arm and begins to thrust into you. You tremble at the sensation, trying to spread your leg wider. Asmo sets a perfectly metered pace and you can feel the beat of it settling in your core, making you thrum with the pressure of him. The percussive noise is filthy; you’re so wet, so filled with fluids as he muddles your insides. You’re spilling, arousal and cum splashing out of you with every movement, soaking the bed.

You twist against him, curl your neck back so you can see his face and he is every inch in his element; un-sated and glowing with concupiscence. The very picture of the abstract. Just the look in his eyes is enough to strike a spark inside your chest, everything burning desire. You reach up, grab a fistful of the hair at his nape and pull him, your mouth meeting his with unfortunate force. You wince against the kiss and he laughs, hitches your leg higher and slams into you, matching your enthusiasm. His tongue licks at the side of your mouth as you dissolve into noiseless gasps and he swallows the rest of your sounds.

Distantly you hear a _click_. Asmo pulls out of you and you rear back, your arms out, fingers curled, _clawing_ , trying to bring him back to you. He mewls with delight as you scratch down against skin, angry red marks visible on his side, the top of his thigh.

He presses down on your closest shoulder, crawls on top of you and gathers both your wrists in one deceptively strong hand, holds them up above your head. Your chest stretches with the movement and he watches the skin shift, leans down and burrows between the valley of your breasts. You shift, buck underneath him and he lifts his legs, pins your thighs with the lightest press of his shins. He pulls back, briefly, and lets a steady puff of air out against your nipples.

“Is now a bad time?”

You start, turn towards the amused voice. Solomon is standing to the side, hair still wet from the shower, towel slung low around his waist. A droplet of water spills from damp locks, follows the elegant lines of his neck, dips between his pectorals and follows the lean cut of a well-trimmed torso. You unconsciously lick your lips.

“ _Oh!_ ”

Asmo has bent over, the head of his cock rubbing against you. “I’d like your full attention if that’s not too much to ask, darling.”

Then he turns to look at Solomon over his shoulder, the hypocrite. “Solomon, what can I do for you?”

The sorcerer is holding two sets of clothes, and you try to lean up to catch a glimpse. Asmo feels your shifted focus and slides smoothly to the hilt, your head going blank at the sensation. “That one. On the right.”

“Thanks.” 

You can hear shifting, he’s going to leave, and you struggle to order your thoughts into something cohesive while Asmo holds you still. “Wait!”

Your voice is wet and broken and you can hear Asmo make a hungry noise in the back of his throat. He leans down, laves his tongue against the side of your neck. “What would you like, love?”

“I, I want . . .” You’re struggling against the fog in your head, but you can feel the inertia of the room as they both hold patiently. You take in a deep breath and Asmo shifts against you, smirking as the friction makes you quiver.

“Yes? Use your words.”

You swallow thickly. “I want to watch you get dressed.”

Asmo cocks an eyebrow, but you’re looking past him. Solomon meets your gaze, slow smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Oh? A mutual show?”

“Mmmm, I like the sound of that.” Asmo backs off of you, releasing your hands and trailing his palm against the curve of your cheek, your neck, over your breasts to all the way between your legs. A single finger drifts between your folds, gathers the remainder of moisture and tucks it between his lips. His eyelids flutter as he _tastes_ , you _and_ Solomon, and you bite your lip nearly hard enough to break skin.

He rubs with a second finger and brings it up to your mouth, gently easing your teeth away. “Let’s share, darling.”

You lick greedily, the sour and salty and sweat. You could get lost in this flavour, the smooth warmth of his finger against your tongue, the gentle coercion as he drags against your bottom lip. He pulls out and you nip, the briefest touch of teeth against him. He hums, enticed.

“Now, why don’t you get on your hands and knees for me?”

You clamber eagerly up, your appendages weak. He doesn’t have to direct you, you turn to face Solomon, standing with his arms crossed casually, clothes lying on a chair behind him. You train your gaze on his face, determined, even as your lashes flutter when Asmo presses up at your back.

He maintains perfectly steady eye contact as he pulls the towel off his hips, drags the fluffy cloth against his neck, exposes the clean contours as though he’s offering up a snack. The sorcerer is standing, the damp sheen of his skin highlighting the near-clinical perfection of his naked body. Asmo snaps his hips against you and you gasp, watching the slow movement of the fabric against his defined arms, over his broad shoulders, down the clean planes of his chest.

You’re nearly salivating.

By the time he’s dragging the towel down his stomach, following the trail of coarse, bright hair towards his sex, you’re clenching, panting, mind unraveling as you’re flooded with ecstasy.

Asmo keeps moving as you shudder and buck, sounds spilling restless from your throat, nearly sobbing. You push against him as the peak of your sensitivity threatens to make you break apart, hands feebly swatting, but he only slows, never stopping. “Amso, I, I can’t—”

“Oh I know you can, love, you’ve done it before.”

But he gives you a brief reprieve, circling an arm around your waist and your shoulders, pulling you to kneeling. You lean bonelessly against his chest as you try to catch your breath, his cock still hard inside you. Solomon turns back from the chair, smiling easily, sliding boxer-briefs up his legs. He reaches back and picks up a night-blue shirt, shaking the sleeves out over his wrists.

You watch nimble fingers at his cuffs, and you reach out wordlessly. He stares at your outstretched hand for a beat before walking over, cradling your head, carding through your sweaty hair. He leans down and offers you a delicate kiss when Asmo finally starts to move again. 

You groan and he pulls away, turning his back to you as he buttons his shirt. He leans down, pulls his pants off the seat of the chair, his butt enticingly raised as Asmo sets a slow rhythm. You writhe against him, breasts bouncing, the cooled explosion of your orgasm quickly building up again as you watch him pull his pants up, slide the leather of his belt through the loops.

Asmo is kissing at your neck, lavishing attention on the hickeys and bites already starting to colour on your skin. You scratch the skin below his crown, follow the line of his jaw with trembling fingers. Solomon clears off the unused clothing, takes a seat in the chair with legs slightly apart, eyes bright, hands clasped with elbows resting on his knees. He leans forwards, just slightly, providing the two of you with his full concentration.

The arm around your waist shifts, hand trailing low, lower, reaching for the trigger of your most ecstatic nerves. Pressure is building in you, energy uncoiling in a chaotic burst like fireworks. Solomon watches unwavering, looking perfectly at ease.

Asmo’s rhythm is stuttering in its pace, you can feel him winding tighter, going faster. His fingers on your clit are too skilled, too practiced, too calculating for you to resist and you feel every nerve sing as you come, hot and euphoric. You’re almost screaming, unable to control your volume, your hand coming up to stifle yourself.

Solomon gets to his feet, walks over and pulls your hand gently away, holds you in a grip tight enough you can’t break free. You can’t see him clearly, your vision clouded by ecstasy, can hear nothing but the sound of Asmo chasing his orgasm with you and your own warbling voice.

You’re shaking, sobbing, tears falling down your face in great gulping gasps as he continues to pound you mercilessly. “Asmo, Asmo I can’t—”

“ _Please love,_ ” he breathes, ghosting against your ear. “Just a little more.”

And fuck, _Fuck_ , you will. You **can**. You’ll give him anything, whatever he wants, he can have it all even if it splinters you, makes you fracture into a million tiny pieces. Solomon leans down and holds your face in his hands, kisses you fully as you disappear into sensation and then Asmo is thrusting up into you with brutal finality, filling you thick and impossibly warm. He lets the last pumps out inside you and then. He pulls out, mercifully, at last.

You collapse to the bed, your thighs covered in fluid, the sheets a painting beneath you. Asmo flops back with slightly more grace, stretching his arms above his head. Solomon leans over, takes Asmo by his neck and pulls him into a kiss heavy with satisfaction. You can hear them behind you, your eyes closed, letting your heartbeat settle in your chest.

There’s a tug on your arm and you’re rolled over, both men rubbing their thumbs carefully over your face, wiping at your tears. You sigh, enjoying the tenderness of the touch.

Solomon ruins it thoroughly with, “You need to get cleaned up.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, but you don’t swat him away.

Asmo takes your hand and brushes a kiss against the back of your knuckles. “Come on darling, as much as I’d love to stay in bed all night with you I believe there was something else you wanted me for?”

Solomon laughs as you scowl at the two of them, turning your face fully into the mattress. “Could you carry her to the bathroom for me? I would, but I’d rather stick with your first choice,” he says, gesturing to his shirt.

Asmo laughs and takes you in his arms, pulling you flush against his chest as he shuffles off the bed. He keeps you in a princess carry, lights a kiss at your forehead even as wetness drips to the floor. Solomon steps forward to open the doors.

“A shower, please. If you two take a bath I know we’re never leaving.”

“Fine, I’ll be spartan tonight.”

Asmo drops you at the edge of the tub, opening the shower door and starting the water, hands out to test the temperature. You lean against the wall, the tile cool against your skin. Your eyes are already closed when Asmo takes your arms and tugs you to standing, helping you stumble in an uneven line. When the first drops hit your skin your eyes are finally fully open.

There’s a calming hand in your hair, shampooing in long strokes. You hum and lean backwards into his touch. “Thanks, Asmo.”

“Of course love.”

His touch is soothing as he rinses, rubs suds in circles over your skin. He’s gentle at your most sensitive areas, feather-light as you continue to come down. You shake your limbs out as feeling returns to your extremities, let the cool water refresh you. You cup it in your hands to splash your face.

“Should I do you?” you ask, turning to face him. 

He winks at you. “I thought you already did.”

You roll your eyes, already pouring shampoo in your hands. You reach up, elbows resting on his shoulders as you massage his scalp. He leans down, drawing you close and. Kisses you, water running down both your faces. You blink against bubbles as shampoo runs down.

“Stop that, you’re going to go blind!” You push him backwards, directly under the spray so you can rinse his hair. Then you back up so he can let the water wash the soap out of his eyes.

“Oh?” Asmo catches you staring as he flicks the moisture away. “Why are you looking at me like that? Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Please don’t.”

The two of you turn to see Solomon leaning against the sink, two new towels in his hands. “I know I’m asking a lot to have you both restrain yourselves, but I have every confidence in you.”

“How nice, thanks Solomon.” He ignores the way you roll your eyes, throwing a towel over your head as you step out of the shower. You press the fabric against your hair as he holds the other towel open for Asmo, who steps gracefully into it.

“You’re so much sweeter to him,” you pout.

“Oh you noticed? I thought I was being so subtle.”

Asmo takes the towel from you, drying you off with soft touches. “Now, now, don’t fight.”

You twist in his arms, lean over to grab your lotion from beside the sink. It’s fragranced with lilies and gardenias and green tea and you squeeze a decent amount in your palms, smooth it over his shoulders, rub it into his chest. He purrs under your hands, and you lean forwards and kiss him.

There’s a strong pressure on your arm and Solomon is jerking you backwards, falling against the satin fabric of his shirt. You tilt back to look at him. “Your shirt’s going to get damp.”

“I can do magic,” he says easily, and puts his hand under your chin. You can feel your hair tangling against his neck, pushing down his open collar as he claims your mouth possessively. Your breaths are heavy when he finally releases you, dragging you gently to the open door. “Now come get dressed.”

“I assume this is where I come in?” Asmo follows, looking curious.

You turn to him, gesturing with the arm Solomon isn’t using to shepherd you around. “I have a few options ready hanging behind the door. Which one do you like?”

He hums, tilting his head and squinting, turning from you to the garments. “I like the length of this one. Do you have it in red?”

“Maybe, let me check.” You turn towards your closet, flinging the doors open and rifling through your hangers. Asmo pops over your shoulder, damp hair chill against your cheek. “Ooh! You’ve expanded your collection.”

“Well I couldn’t let you outshine me so drastically.” You reach a hand out and Solomon intercepts, pressing a bottle of something violently blue into your hands. “Drink.”

“Already?” Asmo asks, peering at your dresses. “Shouldn’t she get dressed first?”

“Electrolytes,” Solomon clarifies.

“Oh. Thank you.” You pop the cap open and obediently down it, at least half the bottle in one breath. A line of blue runs down your chin and Solomon tips the drink down, wiping the drop away with his thumb.

Asmo hums, considering, as he tracks the movement.“Just watching the two of you is making me wonder how you ever manage to go out.”

“Solomon is disciplined.”

“I get tired of her fast.”

You smile sweetly up at him. “I’m going to murder you.”

“Here!” Asmo interrupts any violence, threatened or otherwise, with a deep red dress held up against you. It’s tight and short with a high neckline, shimmering under the lights. “And take this bra - perky and lineless.”

“Oh.” You turn, looking for a surface to drop your drink when Asmo comes behind you, pushes the cups against your chest and fastens the back. Solomon plucks the bottle from your hands as the demon drops the dress over your head, helping you wiggle into the snug fit. 

You do a quick spin in the mirror. “You always did know how to make me look better than I am.”

“I just bring out what you already have, beautiful.”

“Aw. Asmo marry me.”

The demon winks at you, a suggestive gesture in any situation but somehow _sparking_ with promise. “Any day, love. But I hope you know I’m expecting a sizable diamond for my ring.”

“I’ll start looking,” you say, and press a kiss to his jaw.

You shimmy around him, bending towards your drawers to pick a suitable pair of underwear. The dress is tight though . . . Maybe a thong?

Asmo plucks the underwear out of your grasp. “Oh, you won’t be needing those. Lines, darling.”

“It’s a short dress, Asmo. How am I going to sit down?”

“You’ll just have to take a lap. I’m sure our friend here would be more than willing to provide.”

“As long as she doesn’t drip on my pants,” Solomon says dryly.

You cock an eyebrow at him. “I thought you could do magic?”

Asmo laughs, pulls you close by the waist and holds a choker up against your skin. “Here. The dress is almost tall enough, but not quite.”

You glance to the side as he fastens it, watching the dark bruises disappear beneath the fabric. The pass of his fingers over your skin is intimate and familiar, and you feel a sweet warmth in your chest.

“Do you still have time?” you ask, pressed close against his mostly-dry skin. His hand runs below the hem of your dress, smoothing over the bare skin of your hip.

“Up for another round already?”

You roll your eyes at him, catching your lip between your teeth. “I could be persuaded. But we” (and here you gesture between yourself and Solomon) “were actually **going** to go out tonight. So we were wondering—”

“Come out with us,” Solomon interjects, stepping up and pulling you in by the waist.

“Oh!” he says, eyes lighting. Delight shines in his face and he claps his hands together. “Yes! Although if you’d told me I would have brought an appropriate outfit. Just let me nip back and change real quick…”

“Oof!” Solomon rubs at his stomach where you’d just sharply elbowed him. You frown over your shoulder. “This is why you should have let me finish talking before you summoned him!”

“Well, while it usually takes me some time to get the full effect together, I can pull something off quickly! Don’t fret, darling, I’ll be back before you know it!”

“That’s not the problem,” you say with a long-suffering sigh. You run your fingers lightly up his chest. “Now that you’re here I want to keep you.”

“Oh, _love_ ,” Asmo coos.

“Which means you’re going to have to choose something from our closets. Which _also_ means I’m about to lose a beautiful piece because I know you’re going to look much better in it than we do.”

“I wouldn’t worry about not making your usual effect,” Solomon says easily. “I’m sure no one here would be able to handle it.” He turns to you. “ And if we’d waited for him to get ready at home, we wouldn’t have had time for our usual greeting.”

“Are you giving me open access to your wardrobes?” he asks, lighting.

“Of course,” the two of you say easily.

He claps, delighted, and dives back into your selection of decadent fabrics. “Solomon,” he says over his shoulder, tossing a handful of silks and satins out, “where’s your closet? These pants are going to be a little too short for me.”

“I’ll bring you over in a moment. Do you know how long this will take?”

“You can’t rush perfection!” he exclaims, shocked against such a sacrilege.

You pat his hair reassuringly. “Now, now Asmo. He knows.”

It really does take barely twenty minutes for him to find something satisfactory. Deep jewel tones and the swipe of your favourite highlighter against his cheeks, glimmering lotion over his collarbones, along the gorgeous slope of his neck. The two of you watch appreciatively as the demon twirls in the centre of the room, a vision. _Glowing_.

He nearly skips over to you and you smile, affection blooming sweet in your chest. “So, what are we doing tonight?”

“Well, we were going to take you out to eat, but it looks like the restaurant is closed. You'll have to settle for dancing,” Solomon says, leaning down to kiss Asmo along his jaw.

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “Maybe next time.”

You come up on his other side, reaching up to plant a kiss on his cheek. And you sigh, fingering the silk hem of his shirt. “I really liked this shirt.”

“Then why not keep it?” He laughs.

“Please. How could I do that when it was _made_ for you?”

“Oh my lovers are _so_ generous,” Asmo sighs. His hand runs down the line of your neck, stopping directly at the edge of the choker that hides the majority of your marks. “How about I pick something for your from the Devildom to replace it?”

“Well,” you start, smiling. You pretend to turn the thought over in your mind, pretend it’s a simple favour instead of a promise to come see you again. _Soon_. You reflexively run your hands over the creases in your skirt and cock an eyebrow at him, inviting. “You always do come up with my best looks.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first smut so please, be brutal.


End file.
